


like we'll be alright for forever

by fowlaaa



Series: JB Week 2019 [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, JB Week 2019, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week 2019, Kid Fic, Myrcella getting her first period is like a super minor plot point here, Prompt: New Year, so if that kinda thing bugs you you've been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-11 20:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fowlaaa/pseuds/fowlaaa
Summary: When Jaime Lannister's sister passes away, he finds himself cluelessly in custody of her children, and has to turn to his longtime next-door-neighbor Brienne Tarth for help.





	like we'll be alright for forever

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo... this is definitely not my best work, but life has been absolutely crazy and on top of that, I've got a broken laptop. I wanted to go ahead and get this done so I could move past my JB week stuff and get back to my other fics, so hopefully you guys still enjoy this even if it didn't turn out as great as I'd originally hoped! 
> 
> Title taken from the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack.

It’s the first day of eighth grade for Myrcella, and no matter how many times Jaime knocks on her door, she won’t come out of her room.

It’s just another reminder that whoever thought Cersei’s children should be left with  _ Jaime _ when their parents died had been completely out of their minds. Jaime doesn’t know the first thing about raising children, and sure, Tyrion doesn’t either, but at least he was always the smart one out of the two of them.

Hells, even Robert’s brothers might have been better. Straight-laced, boring Stannis has done an excellent enough job with his daughter Shireen, and Renly… Well,  _ okay _ , maybe Renly wouldn’t have done the best of jobs, but he probably at least could have found a way to make Myrcella  _ laugh _ on the other side of the door.

Instead, all he hears is sniffling as he shouts out, “Myrcella, we need to  _ leave _ , now, or you’re going to be late for your first day!” 

* * *

Jaime had always thought  _ Joffrey _ was the difficult one. Oh, Cersei had adored her cruel, entitled oldest son, but he’d always wished he’d done more to put his nephew on a better path. Still, Joffrey is away at college now, an adult, and he is his own problem. He’s not the one here screaming that Jaime wouldn’t understand why he doesn’t want to go to school; that’s Myrcella, and it seems his niece is positioning herself to be the difficult one now instead. 

“Myrcella, why are you so nervous? It’s all your same friends from last year!” Jaime tells her impatiently. He was  _ so _ not prepared for this, not prepared for the moodswings of teenagers or for children in his home telling him to leave them alone or…  _ any _ of it, really, and he keeps trying, but he’s surer with each attempt that nothing is going to work.

“It’s a girl thing!” Myrcella screeches back, almost hysterically, and it’s only  _ then _ that Jaime finally understands. 

_ Oh _ . Myrcella has gotten her period. Her  _ first _ period, if the sniffling and panic are any indication, and  _ shit _ . Jaime has never known what to do with those.

He’d wanted to help, of course. When Cersei had gotten hers when they were younger. Jaime was her twin, and her other half, and he hadn’t wanted his twin to have to suffer through anything alone. She’d always been so stubborn and proud, though; Cersei wanted to take care of herself, to be twice as tough as the boys in some kind of twisted attempt to make their father value her even half as much.

The most help Jaime had gotten her to accept was him smuggling her some chocolate when it was her time of the month; apart from that, he’d been shut out of the process completely. Now, though, it’s not just a  _ want _ to protect his sister; he’s actually been legally  _ tasked _ with protecting Myrcella, and he has no bloody clue what to do.

* * *

Jaime probably stares at the door for an inordinately long time, unsure of what he should be doing. It’s only when Tommen tugs on his sleeve, reminding him that  _ he _ need to get to school as well, that Jaime’s thoughts go next door, to Brienne Tarth.

“Myrcella, I’ll be right back,” he calls through the door, then says to Tommen, “Don’t go anywhere.”

His niece hears those words and shrieks, “Oh, so  _ he _ doesn’t have to go anywhere? That’s so unfair!” through the door, but Jaime hardly hears her; he’s already speeding outside. He probably looks absolutely insane as he nearly trips down his front steps, but he regains his balance 

He doesn’t know what to do. So he runs outside and starts banging on his next door neighbor Brienne’s door.

* * *

Tarth works from home most days, Jaime has gathered. They don’t talk often; he doesn’t talk to  _ most _ of his neighbors. He sees her come and go, though. Sometimes he catches glimpses of her through the window, dressed in professional clothing and sitting in front of a computer, and he’s not surprised she’s one of  _ those _ people, who thinks she has to look respectable even at home. If Jaime were in her place, he’d just be working in his pajamas.

He  _ prays _ she’s working from home today, as he bangs on the door more persistently, loud enough to wake her up, if she happens to be deeply asleep. He can hear the heavy footsteps inside when she starts to make her way to the door; Jaime can already tell she’s exasperated with him before he can even see her, but it’ll all be worth it, if she can help Myrcella.

He may not understand  _ why _ he’s been tasked with taking care of the children after Cersei’s death, but he  _ has _ been, and by the gods, he wants to do it  _ right _ . 

“Quit banging on the door as if the world is ending!” Brienne snaps at him as she opens the door, staring at him indignantly. Her hair is sticking up in all directions, and she’s wearing pajamas with hockey sticks and pucks on them that would have made Jaime snicker on any other occasion. 

This  _ isn’t _ any other occasion, though. He’s apparently got a bleeding teenage girl next door, and she seems to tell that Jaime is in a panic, because her face softens almost instantly.

“It’s my niece. She’s… on her period, I think, and I haven’t got the faintest clue how to help her,” Jaime admits. Brienne wears a different expression when she hears this news — something between sympathy and panic herself.

“No. No, I’m not the right person to help her, go to Melisandre across the street, or even Lysa next to her…” Brienne begins, muttering excuses about ‘not being nearly so girly as his niece’ or ‘never having been very good at that herself.’

In the end, none of Brienne’s excuses make a difference, though. Jaime Lannister’s pleading green eyes win out, and she stops saying no and tells him to give her just a moment to grab a couple of things and brush her hair.

* * *

Brienne follows him reluctantly back to what she refers to as his ‘bachelor pad.’ She still seems uncomfortable in her own skin, like helping with  _ girly _ things isn’t really her forte, but the truth is, Jaime can’t think of anyone else on the street he’d trust. Melisandre would probably  _ terrify _ Myrcella, and Lysa is… unpleasant, to say the least. For all her gruffness and awkwardness, Jaime wouldn’t have chosen anyone other than Brienne. 

She’s never been inside his house before, though,not in all of this time that they’ve lived next door to each other, and Jaime’s fairly certain today was the first time he’s ever knocked on her door. He never even explained to her — or  _ anyone — _ why there were suddenly two children living with him, but Jaime knows it was all over the news. The death of a Lannister isn’t exactly something that goes unnoticed.

Brienne doesn’t seem to care about those things, though. Not about the cold opulence of his home, or about his sordid family history. Once she’s inside, she’s all business, following Jaime to the bathroom door and crouching beside it. She gives Jaime a  _ look _ , like she’d really rather he weren’t here, and Jaime would have rather stayed and watched, he thinks, but Tommen is tugging on his arm again and saying he wants to wear a different shirt to school, and Jaime reluctantly follows his nephew back to his room just as Myrcella finally opens the door and miraculously lets Brienne slip inside with her.

* * *

Once Tommen is changed, they go back to the door, and they wait. Tommen asks questions occasionally, and Jaime humors him, but mostly he’s listening for murmuring on the other side of the door, trying to make out  _ how _ things are going with Brienne Tarth and his niece.

He doesn’t hear any more sniffling or screaming, so they must be going  _ fairly _ well, at least.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, they finally emerge. Myrcella’s got a weak smile on her face, looking up at Brienne with intense gratification. Brienne herself looks sheepish, but Jaime thinks he can detect a hint of pride. She may not think herself feminine enough for a job like this, but she’s  _ done _ it, and he doesn’t quite have the words to express how grateful he and Myrcella both are.

Fortunately, he doesn’t  _ need _ words. Tommen’s face lights up at the sight of Brienne, and he says, “Woah! You’re tall, like a superhero!”

That makes  _ all _ of them chuckle, and for the first time since Cersei died, Jaime almost feels happy. He at least feels like he wants to stay in this moment and enjoy it for a little longer, but one glance at the clock tells him that he and the kids are  _ beyond _ late. He murmurs awkward thanks to Tarth for her help, and then they’re all out the door, Jaime and the kids scrambling for the car while Brienne heads back to her home next door.

* * *

There’s a part of Jaime that hopes there are no more emergencies that require Brienne to come around, but after that first day, there’s  _ also _ a part of him that kind of hopes there are. It had been nice, sharing the responsibility with someone else, seeing Tommen and Myrcella  _ trusting _ and  _ admiring _ someone else. He doesn’t really fancy himself much of a role model, and gods know he hopes the kids don’t grow up as lonely as he did.

It seems that Tommen and Myrcella are on the same page, too. They start making excuses to ask for Brienne more and more, telling him his cooking is terrible and that they should see if Brienne’s better, saying that he’s not tall enough to find some lizard that’s apparently snuck into their rooms and hangs out on the ceiling when Jaime’s not looking, saying they need someone they can sit piggyback on to help them see things like free concerts at the park. Myrcella even goes so far as to say she wants Brienne to help her shop for a new  _ bra _ , and while Jaime knows that she’s got plenty of them, he doesn’t question it.

He doesn’t question  _ any _ of their excuses. He just keeps going next door and knocking and knocking, and Brienne keeps helping and helping, until there aren’t really  _ reasons _ anymore, she just starts coming over of her own accord to check that they’re all right.

She stays, even when they are. She’s started to fit herself into their lives, and Jaime’s never really cared for much beyond his family before, but suddenly he finds he  _ misses _ her when she’s gone. He misses her loud laugh when Tommen or Myrcella say something outlandish, he misses the way she rolls her eyes at him when he can’t figure out how to do something basic around the house, and he can’t help there way his eyes trail towards her house, looking wistfully for her when she’s not around.

* * *

They’re gathered around the coffee table, sprawled out in varying positions on the floor, playing some ridiculous popomatic game called  _ Trouble _ , and Brienne is sure to knock Jaime’s piece back to start instead of taking out Tommen’s piece, which is one move away from winning the young boy the game. Tommen’s eyes shine with delight when he sees what she’s done, and he blurts out in that innocent way that children do, “Can Brienne just never leave?” 

Jaime snorts at Brienne’s reaction; she’s all blushing and nervous, unsure what to say to Tommen’s comment, and her redness only deepens when Myrcella gets in on it, too. “It would be perfect, don’t you think?” 

Jaime ponders it for a second. It kind of  _ would _ be perfect, wouldn’t it? No more pestering her next door at odd hours, no more aching in his stomach as he watches her leave each night… 

It’s a nice picture, and despite his better judgment, Jaime decides to just get in on the teasing, too. “Yeah, Brienne, never leave,” he instructed her, and she looks  _ so _ startled when he says it, far more startled than the situation calls for. 

They turn back to the game then, letting Tommen officially claim his judgment, but Jaime has filed that deer in the headlights look of hers away to ask about later.

* * *

It’s a couple hours more before both of the children have gone to bed, and Jaime’s a little too delighted to find that Brienne  _ lingers _ . She helps him clean up the dishes from earlier, and then she puts away the games for him and straightens the couch pillows, too. They do most of it in companionable silence, not wanting to risk waking Tommen especially back up, and Jaime doesn’t break the silence until he’s walking her out.

“You seemed so surprised earlier. When we wanted you to stay,” Jaime says. It’s not a question, but a statement, and Brienne seems prepared for it this time. Instead of startling again, she goes on the defensive, protesting, “I wasn’t. I know that Myrcella and Tommen are quite fond of me. I’m fond of them, too.”

Jaime takes it as the cop out it is, fixing her with a pointed glare. “Tommen and Myrcella are fond of you?  _ Just _ Tommen and Myrcella?” he questions, and the blush from earlier creeps back up, blotchy and deep and almost delightful, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d read betwen the lines and realized she’d left  _ him _ out of her statement.

“I had thought… well, I’d  _ assumed _ you only tolerated me for the children’s sake,” she admits, because she  _ knows _ Jaime by now, knows that he won’t let her get away with this without giving him some kind of explanation. “This was the first time I suppose I realized you might have some affection for me, too.”

“The first time?” Jaime scoffs, somewhat offended by her words. He doesn’t  _ let _ people into his life. He’s lived on this bloody street for years and she’s the first friend he’s bothered to make, and even that took his niece and nephew’s  _ prodding _ to do. The fact that she doesn’t realize she’s different than other people seems frankly ridiculous to Jaime, and he drawls, “Clearly I’ve been doing something wrong all this time.” 

Jaime pauses for a moment, an even  _ worse _ thought occuring to him. “Does that mean  _ you _ only tolerate  _ me _ for the children, Tarth? Maybe the reason you think I’ve got no affection for you is because you’ve got none for me.”

Brienne blanches, as if he’s said something preposterous, and that at least makes him feel a bit better. This is all new to him, this  _ caring _ for people who aren’t Tyrion and Cersei thing, and Jaime’s not used to navigating waters like this. It seems that Brienne isn’t either, as she stammers out, “Of  _ course _ I have affection for you, but people like you don’t… I mean, I’m…”

She gestures towards herself, but before Jaime can protest that there’s nothing  _ wrong _ with her as far as he can tell, she changes course. “You did spend an awful lot of time not acknowledging I existed, you know.”

Jaime arches an eyebrow at her at that. So she’d been paying attention. All that time, when he’d been holed away next door, not bothering to engage with anyone in the neighborhood, she’d been right there, seemingly  _ hoping _ he’d take the time to interact. “I’ll have you know I didn’t acknowledge  _ anyone _ around here existed, thank you very much. Although if you’d been banging on my door the way that those old crones were, I might have been more receptive.”

She narrows her eyes at him, making him chuckle slightly.  _ Fine _ . So she doesn’t believe him, but Jaime decides that if he can trust her with Tommen and Myrcella, who have become the most precious things in the world to him… well, then he can certainly trust her with his own  _ feelings.  _

“I was aimless, when I moved here. Not exactly in a good place. It’s taken the kids being here… Well, they’ve helped to give me a purpose, finally. Brought some happiness back into my life, that I hadn’t had in a long time.”

Those startlingly blue eyes of Brienne’s look  _ sad _ , at that. Like she’d never considered that the man next door, whose life looked perfect to the outside world, could have been feeling anything less than perfect on the inside. He doesn’t want to dwell on it, though; it’s the past, and this is his new reality.  _ She’s _ part of his new reality, whether she realizes it or not, and before she can bid him goodnight and leave, he makes sure she knows.

“You’re part of that happiness too, you know,” Jaime tells her firmly, and he’s surprised that Brienne holds his gaze as he says it, rather than dropping her eyes in embarrassment, the way she’s wont to do when someone compliments her. “And for the record, I’ve got a hell of a lot of affection for you, too, Tarth.”

* * *

Jaime doesn’t kiss her that night, though when she swallows hard and her eyes swim with emotion at his declaration, he wants to.  _ Oh _ , does he want to. He can’t rush into anything, though; this woman’s not just something to him, she’s something to Tommen and Myrcella, too, and he won’t get their hopes up, not when they’ve had so little hope since their mother died. 

He will someday, though. Jaime will kiss her, he’ll love her, he’ll marry her… He’ll do anything she’ll let him, be anything she wants from him, give her anything she’s willing to have.

And someday, when that happens?

Tommen, Myrcella, and Jaime will get their wish. Someday, Brienne Tarth will be theirs, and when that day comes, she’ll never have to leave. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @starksistersftw.


End file.
